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Apr 2019
Thin tendrils of splintered glass.
An empty mirror reflecting
an empty sky of asphalt and
pavement and what once
was smoke but is now
only air again.

Thin fingers of shattered glass.
An empty mirror reflecting
an empty sky of sawdust and
strangeness and what once
was sorrow but is now
only me again.
Written by
Craig Verlin  San Francisco
(San Francisco)   
488
     Fawn and Craig Verlin
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